He walked past everything. The screaming as people burned, the putrid smell in the air, the flames ravaging his body, everything was ignored. He trudged along the broken path, stumbling his way through the chaos even as his body was wracked with pain.

My body...

Despite the immense suffering, he forced his way through the fire. Placing one aching feet after the other, he willed himself to walk forward. Once again, he felt a pain strike his heart as people desperately cried for someone to help them. Despite the want to help, he disregarded the burning people. He continued to struggle through the flames, aimlessly stumbling through the inferno. He pushed himself forward with one image in his mind. It was the only thing keeping the him going, the image of a sword.

Is made of swords...

It wasn't even a will to survive that kept him walking. All he could think about now was the sword in his mind, compelling him to walk each step. He paid no more attention to the cries of the miserable, completely focused on the image of the sword that permeated his mind. Nothing else mattered to him at the moment. The sword was all that meant anything. It was all that would ever mean anything. Even if his body couldn't handle the stress, he would still struggle to comply with the urgings of the sword.

But at some point, he fell. His body gave out on him, his legs collapsing on him. His broken body lay collapsed, his soulless eyes staring through the smoke in the air. Was this it for him? Would he finally submit to the pain that coursed through his body? Will there be anyone to save him from this hell?

Iron is my blood...

No. He refused to give in to the misery that surrounded him. The sword in his mind flashed. He slowly forced himself up, forced himself to stand and walk forward. And he did. Each step that he took wasn't without cost, however. Every step, every foot that walked in front of the other, he disposed parts of himself to proceed through the hell that permeated the air around him.

Happiness. Sadness. Love. Hate. Hope. Despair. Fear. Every single emotion that a human can feel, was tossed away into the flames of hell as he walked. Each step he took, the sword became sharper and the cracks within his mind became more defined. His mind became fragile like glass.

And glass is my heart...

But, the cracks and fragility of his mind will be his ultimate weapon. A double-edged sword, ironically enough. The image of the sword grew sharper still. It was all he could think about, nothing else mattered. The sword will be everything. His happiness, his sadness, his love, his hate, his hope, his despair, his fear, it will be everything to him. His life will revolve around the sword, the weapon that will overcome all his enemies. He will wield this weapon of his, the sword within his distorted mind, and be victorious.

I have overcome countless battlefields undefeated...

He will fight. He will win. That was all there was to it. Nothing more, nothing less. He defeat all of his enemies and remain victorious. He will fight battle after battle with this sword, and slay each and every one of his adversaries. He will not run away.

Not once have I retreated...

He continued to take the steps forward. Each step continued to sharpen the sword. Each step continued to make the cracks more and more pronounced. In the end, will he still be capable of feeling emotion? Will this ostracize himself from society? The distortion within his mind, will he be understood?

Nor once have I been understood...

Ah, but it did not matter. A black, gooey substance washed over his mind. Even in his mind, it reeked of evil. In fact, it was All the World's Evils. Once again, his body collapsed. He ran out of emotions to discard into the flames. So, this was it. He was finally going to die, despite his desperate struggle. The sword that he embodied could not be seen. The vile substance distorted his psyche further, shattering his mind into little pieces.

Always alone...

Which erupted into a large hill of swords. It pierced through All the World's Evils as his one sword became many.

On the hill of swords...

What was the reason? Where did that man come from? A man was smiling down at him while tears streamed down his face. For some reason, he felt that the man was late. But, it mattered not as he felt something be placed inside of him. His shattered, soulless eyes peered into the man's eyes. Taking in his full countenance, he felt the sheer happiness of the man, despite discarding the emotion away. Why? Why was he happy?

Intoxicated with victory...

What reason did the man have to be happy? To smile such a smile that could even be felt by his distorted mind? He shouldn't have been able to feel the emotion, much less comprehend what it was. His mind was shattered, distorted, it should not understand, but it did.

Thus this life has no meaning...

The hill of swords radiated in his mind. It cut away at All the World's Evils that had entered his mind. It destroyed every part of the sinful substance. His mind, his sword, had shattered into little pieces. But, the pieces became an even greater weapon as they all sharpened into swords that could erase All the World's Evils that had taken hold in his mind.

This body...

"Tell me, King of Heroes... Do you have enough swords?"

Was definitely...

Emiya Shirou gave a cold, blank look as he stared into the eyes of the slain King.

Made out of blades...

Fate/stay night: The Fourth Route – Complete Distortion

Chapter 00: Prologue

End

There you have it! This something I wanted to get out of my mind. As sad as it is, I don't think I can write a story, not while I'm busy with school. I don't even have the will to write something longer than a chapter or two, so I won't even bother furthering this story at the moment. I don't even write that well. If enough people encourage me to, I might try to write this. However! If anyone would like to take up this story and write it to the end, message me! I want to see someone finish this for me. I will give you my thoughts on what I want to happen, but it will be up to you to bring this unto fruition. I'll my continuing to type up small plot bunnies like this, so you may see something like this again at some point. Well, give me your thoughts on this! Thanks for reading!

MY BODY...
IS MADE OF SWORDS.

IRON IS MY BLOOD
AND GLASS IS MY HEART

I HAVE OVERCOME COUNTLESS BATTLEFIELDS UNDEFEATED
NOT ONCE HAVE I RETREATED
NOR ONCE HAVE I BEEN UNDERSTOOD

ALWAYS ALONE
ON THE HILL OF SWORDS...
INTOXICATED WITH VICTORY...

THUS THIS LIFE HAS NO MEANING.
THIS BODY... WAS DEFINITELY...

MADE OUT OF BLADES...